High Stakes And Risky Business
by Lizzie9
Summary: After 3 years of no communication Seth, and the CIA ask a favor of Summer that reveals to her his job and his lingering love for her, and puts their lives, as well the free world in danger. AU. Fun, action, etc.
1. Chapter 1

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: R or whatever that is these days

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

Summer Roberts strolled out of Banana Republic, and stood at the street and turned her head to look before she crossed. And that's when she saw it. She saw the building, with William Penn's statue on the top. She saw the buildings surrounding Philadelphia's city hall. And of all the activity there, her eyes zoomed in on one person.

He was tall, but not too tall. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt that showed he was built, but not too built. And the thing that caught her eye was the hair. That Jew fro type, that transformed into a mass of curls and frizz in the humid, east coast summer.

In fact, it looked exactly like…

No. It couldn't be. She hadnt seen Seth Cohen in like, three years. There was no reason for him to be in Philadelphia right now. He was like, an accountant or something, last she heard.

Which was totally random, since he had spent their entire college careers telling her he wanted an exciting job.

"What am I doing?" Summer asked herself outloud as the man who had caught her eye shook hands with a few people in suits and disappeared into a building.

Summer shook her head and checked her watch. Shit. She was going to be late. Again.

She pushed the thoughts of Seth Cohen out of her mind. She had bigger fish to fry. She had taken a design job at Marc Jacobs. The American headquarters were in recently repostioned in Philadelphia, so here she lived. In a fabulous apartment. With a dream job. And all she thought about was Seth Cohen.

* * *

Back in the Ritz- Carlton Philadelphia's conference room, Seth Cohen sat, surrounded by computers, communication devices, GPS monitors and the tech geeks running them.

The de-briefing session turned into a briefing session. Seth threw a packet of picture on the middle of the conference table and showed them to his team.

"The problem lies in these men." He said. "Fundamentalist Islamics who have sort of assimilated to Western Culture. They're like the rest of the rich, International set. They drink, they have sex with a lot of women, and their business ventures are questionable. This makes them very hard to weed out."

He paused for dramatic effect. "These are the ones planning and executing the attack we've been hearing about, and ignoring, for months. We can't ignore it any longer."

He paused again. He had been in the very selective, very secretive counter-terrorism branch of the CIA for six years now, and never tired of pretending he was filiming an episode of 24, or a James Bond movie.

"So tell me, team," he said, "What are we going to do?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth, his team burst into a flurry of activity. He sighed. He wanted to go for a walk. There was always the chance he would run into her on the street.

Seth sighed again. How pathetic he was. He had chosen the CIA safehouse in Philadelphia as the homebase for the latest mission, not because, as he had told his team, because it was less obvious than New York or D.C., but because he knew Summer was there.

They'd broken up their senior year in college. He couldn't even remember why. She was angry, he was yelling, and the next thing he knew the apartment they shared in Berkley was empty.

They had kept in touch for a while. The last time he'd seen her was three Christmases ago in Newport. He fed her the line he told everyone. "I work in finances. Accounting." No one knew the truth. Except his mom, his dad, Ryan and Mrs. Ryan Atwood, formerly Miss Marissa Cooper. They lived in New York. Ryan did architechture all over the world and Marissa did something with couture modeling and fashion.

At least they had gotten it right. Gotten married. Started a life. Seth sat back in his chair and wondered what life might have been like if he and Summer had a normal life. If he didn't have a job that made him play with death everyday.

He smiled to himself. He loved this job. He had been all over the world, and done anything you could imagine.

Besides, he said to himself, Ryan and Marissa's Park Avenue digs arent exactly your normal lifestyle.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: R or whatever that is these days

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

The monolouge running in Seth's head stopped when he noticed one of the guys on his team, Jack Henry, trying to get his attention.

"Seth."

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking, if this is what you're going after, if we got a someone, a girl, maybe, who could fit in with the Hollywood set, but who wasn't someone who would really be recognized."

Seth stared blankly. "What are you saying Jack?"

Jack sighed. "I'm saying that if we found a girl who had a reason to be running with this crowd, but who's face wasn't all over TV, and she was willing, she could go undercover for us."

Seth leaned back in his chair, thinking. "So you're thinking along the lines of…?"

"An agent. A journalist. A stylist."

Seth snapped his fingers. "A fashion designer?"

Jack grinned. "You like the idea?"

"Love it. Listen Jack. Get me the Philadelphia address for Summer Roberts. Find someone in her building close to her age, and get the neighbor in here."

Jack eyes his boss quizzically, but did what he was told. Seth's mind was racing. It sounded like a terrific way to get close to Summer again when the thought had first entered his head, but now that had time to think about it, did it make any sense?

Alarmingly, it did. According to Marissa, Summer was some high toned, fancy designer for one of the clothing companies that Marissa and his mom and every other woman in Newport obsessed over.

Marissa claimed that Summer was all over that Hollywood type scene. The award shows, the premieres, the parties. But Seth had never opened up People magazine or a tabloid and seen a huge photo of Summer Roberts. She was exactly what he needed.

Now all he had to do was decide whether or not he had the balls to risk her life.

* * *

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this Gina." Seth said to Summer Roberts twentysomething year old neighbor. "We didn't part on the best of terms, so I'm really not sure if she'll let me in or not." Seth was pretending to be the ex- boyfriend. Not a total lie, considering he was the ex boyfriend.

Nor was it the whole truth, because the reason he was meandering around his ex girlfriend's new, center city, ultra modern, obviously expensive apartment buliding had more to do with national security than a romantic reunion.

Gina smiled sympathetically at him, and lead the way to Summer's apartment. She knocked on the door. "Sum, it's me. I need to borrow…uh, something."

Seth rolled his eyes. How extremely lame.

His breath caught in his throat as Summer's voice responded. "Can you wait, G? I'm designing. Naked."

Seth smiled. "There's your problem, Summer Roberts. You haven't learned a thing. You threatening to be naked isnt what's going to keep me away."

There was a moment of dead silence. "Cohen?" she called. The door flung open, and before Seth knew what was happening, she flung her arms around him.

He hugged her, and turned to Gina. "This is going a lot better than expected." Summer released him from her embrace and punched him in the arm.

"Where have you been for the last three years, you ass?"

Seth said nothing. Until he realized that this was not a rhetorical question, and both Summer and Gina were looking at him, expecting that would give them some sort of response.

"Oh you know." He said, feigning casualty. "Around."

Summer's eyes narrowed. "It was you."

"Was me where?"

"On the steps of City Hall today. You were wearing, well that. And you shook hands with a bunch of guys in suits, and then you ducked into a building. What's up Cohen? The financial district isn't exactly under the William Penn statue."

"Why would I go to the financial district?" he asked her incredulously. "I hate money."

"You're an _accountant_, Seth." Summer said. "At least that's what you've been telling me since Berkely."

"Shit." Seth muttered more to himself than her. "One pretty girl is all it takes to blow that cover."

"Cover?" Summer thundered. "Cohen, what the hell are you doing here?"

Seth looked around nervously. They absolutley could not do this in the hallway. "Voice down, please." He whispered at Summer. She glared and slammed her door in his face.

Seth turned to Gina and smiled sheepishly. "She suffers from rage blackouts."

Gina rasied her eyebrows and nodded. "I'm going to go."

"Thanks for the help, G." Seth said to her retreating back. He knocked on Summer's door.

"Don't make me call security." She threatened.

Seth sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. "Sum, I am security."

"Excuse me?" came her voice from the other side of the door. Seth removed his CIA identification from his wallet, and slid it under her door.

"You better let me in sweetheart."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: R or whatever that is these days

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

She didn't let him in. Much to his dismay, she didn't let him in. And she still had his CIA ID card, which he really needed.

They had abandoned the Ritz Carlton conference room now that the safehouse had been set up. So there he stormed, hurt by her display, but he masked it with anger. He stormed into massive living room, deemed the room where he and his team would work.

"Someone find a way to get Summer Roberts' pretty little ass down here, along with my ID card. And get Marissa Atwood on the phone."

* * *

Summer, too, was furious. She sat down on one of her couches, with some sort of official looking card, adorned with CIA emblems, governement seals, and Seth's picture.

She reached over and picked up her phone. She hit number three on the speed dial, and called the penthouse on 59th and Park Avenue.

* * *

"I don't understand why she's being like this." Seth barked into the speakerphone at Marissa.

"Maybe because you've been lying to her for years?"

"I can't just tell her that I'm in the CIA. She wasn't immediate family. She had no reason to know."

"Seth, give it time. Talk to her., Rationally. She'll adjust."

"Marissa, we both know that Summer is not the type to adjust easily."

Marissa sighed. "Neither is Ryan, and I got him to live in a penthouse."

"Yea, I never really figured that one out, but Ryan is far more sane than Summer."

"I convinced him that having 28 different rooms to have sex in was not something we would find the Village. And don't pretend Summer's not sane. What do you want with her anyway?"

"That was a very distrubing sentiment there, Mrs. Atwood." Aseth said, grimacing. "And I can't tell you at the present time. National security. Thanks though."

"I've got your back. Call if you need anymore advice."

* * *

Summer listened to the busy signal and nearly threw her phone across the room. She dialed speed dial number 7, and got Ryan's cell.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Atwood, you're going down."

"Summer." Ryan responded amicably. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the bullshit, Chino." Summer said. "I know you live on Park Ave these days, but you're still pretty slick aren't you?"

Ryan had a pretty good idea of where this was headed. "Have you seen Seth recently?"

"Oh, why would you think that's why I'm calling? Because he's in the fucking CIA? And all anyone's ever told me is that he's an accountant? I mean come on, that's not even a decent cover. Seth hates money."

"CIA. Special branch. Counter Terrorism. He basically gets paid to pretend he's James Bond."

"Figures."

"What's going on Summer?"

"I wish I knew. I saw him on the street, walking into City Hall, and the next thing I know, he's manipulating my neighbors to get into my building, showing up at my apartment, and shoving this little ID tag under my door, and then telling me, all Sean Connery like, that I better open up."

"You didn't let him in did you?"

"Of course not."

"I don't know what to tell you Sum. Last I heard, he was busting up a drug ring in Bogota, because it funded terrorists."

"So he really does stuff like that? Undercovers, guns, the whole nine yards?"

"The whole nine yards." Ryan repeated.

"God, how dangerous is it?"

"How much do you care?"

"I don't care. I'm just..curious."

"Well since you care so little, anytime he's on business, there's a potential he won't come back."

Ryan listened and heard Summer suck in a breath. "Jesus."

"But you don't care right?" Ryan asked, sounding ridiculously smug. Summer responded by hanging up the phone.

Ryan snapped his cell phone shut, smiling. Then, he impulsively opened it again and dialed home.

"Atwood residence."

"So Seth and Summer, back at it again?" he asked his wife.

"She called you? I talked to Seth. Any idea what's going on?"

"Not in the least. You find out?"

"Seth wouldn't tell me. He claimed national security. I gotta go. We have that dinner at eight."

Ryan groaned. "Right, the Save Venice one."

"Your Valentino tux is pressed and ready to go."

"You're lucky I love you."

Marissa laughed. "Love you too."

* * *

"I just want you to know this is kidnapping." Summer said to the two rather large men who had come to her apartment and dragged her to this townhouse off of Vine Street, right in Center City.

"Ma'm, with all do respect, who are you going to say kidnapped you? Now, why don't you just make yourself comfortable in the study, while I tell my supierors that you've arrived?"

Summer huffily sat down on a couch. A young woman breezed into the room. "Hi. Riley. Can I get you a drink?"

Summer blinked. "Uh, Diet Coke, if you have it."

Riley disappeared and reappeared with two cans in less than five seconds. "Here." She said, handing a can to Summer, and openeing her own, while plopping down on another couch.

"Marc Jacobs, huh?"

Summer blinked again. "How'd you know that?"

Riley laughed. "CIA. It's our job to know everything."

Summer sighed. "Look, Riley, I like you. Unless you're sleeping with a certain Seth Cohen. Then I'll be forced to hate your guts. But giving you the benefit of that doubt, you seem nice. But I really just want to know what all of this is about."

Riley cringed. "Don't worry about me and Seth. And I wish I could tell you, but I havent been authorized."

Summer sighed again. "At this point, I'd authorized anything to know what's going on."

Seth Cohen strode into the room. "Anything?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "That was a mistake. I was going to just tell you, but since you put that on the table, maybe we can wager?"

Summer rolled her eyes. "Here." She handed him his ID. "Now what is all of this Cohen?"

Seth turned to Riley. "Thanks." He said. She nodded and left, closing the doors behind her.

"All of this, Summer, is my job. I'm part of a unit of the CIA. Our job is to find out about terrorists. Where they are, what their plans on, how they're being funded, that sort of stuff. When we know that, we call up Hilary, tell her what we need, she authorizes it, and we make it happen."

Summer stared blankly. "So this isn't some kind of joke?"

Seth shook his head. "Hardly."

Summer eyed him. "And why didn't you tell me this that summer we graduated Berkely, and you got a job? I mean accounting?"

"I couldn't tell you. You weren't considered a need to know person."

"But Ryan and Marissa are?"

"For all intents and purposes, Ryan is my brother. And Marissa didn't know until they married."

"So who knows?"

"Them. My Mom and Dad. You."

"Me. Where exactly do I fit into all of this Cohen?" she asked, eyeing him suspicously.

"Honestly, Sum, I don't know if I really want to tell you."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" she asked tensing.

Seth bit his lip. Usually he bullshitted people who went under cover for him. He treated them as expendable. He wanted them to live, obviously, but if they didn't, he knew it came with the job. He decided it was in his best interest with Summer to save the bull shit.

"I don't know how ready I am to risk your life. Summer, we want you to go undercover. I can't give you any details until you actually agree to do it, which oddly never bothered me until this very moment. But it'd be dangerous, and you could die, and the only reason I'm even asking is because I don't have a choice."

Summer bit her lip. "You don't think I'll do it."

"I don't want you to do it. There's a difference."

She looked at him for a long time without speaking. "You're serious, aren't you? CIA, National Security, undercover, all of it."

"Summer, you can say no. Please say no." He begged even though he knew she was going to do it.

"I'm in, Cohen." she whispered. His breathing stopped a little bit, and he placed a hand on her cheek.

"Change your mind." he whispered back. She had no idea why she was doing this, but she knew she was going to. She shook her head.

Seth could see that he wasn't going to change her mind, so he switched to his usual banter.

"So, are you planning to threaten the lives of all my female colleagues?"

Her jaw dropped. "You heard that?"

"CIA, Sum. Get used to it."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please

Seth couldn't do it. It was too hard to make mindless comments to Summer like this was some kind of joke.

"You can change your mind until I start briefing you. After that, you'll be required to sign a secrecy agreement, which puts you in too deep to get out. Summer, trust me, don't do this."

"Cohen, make this about you and me for a few seconds, ok?" she asked defiantly, even though he could tell she was scared. "What the hell are you saying?"

He sighed. "Sum, if you really are going to accept this, we make you an agent. I brief you, which means I tell you everything I know. And then you and I will get on a plane and fly to Bogota, or Cairo or Paris or Tel Aviv, following leads. We'll assume new identities every other day. We'll be stressed, we'll be tired. We'll get to the point where every new wig, every fake name, every hotel, every story, every lie, could be the last."

"What if I change my mind?"

"Then I find some other girl who fits the profile. I drag her around with me, and marvel at how great she's doing. Then when she gets sloppy, and I still push her, and push her until she ends updead, I feel guilty as hell, but so relieved that I'm negotiating the return of her body, not yours."

Summer swallowed hard. "Why me?" she whispered.

"You fit the profile. You can pretend to be anyone. You can be you if I need you to. You fit in with the type of people who constantly circle the globe, but no one's seen your picture all over a hundred billboards."

Summer looked at him for a while. "Why did you ask me for this if you didn't want me to do it?"

"Time." He said simply. "Something big is going to go down, and it's going to go down soon. I've got enough blood on my hands without adding tens of thousands more dying in an attack I could have prevented."

Summer stared. Earlier he had seemed so much like the Seth Cohen she had always known. But right now, he seemed very changed, and she saw the affect it had on him.

"When I take someone undercover with me, both of our lives are on the line every step of the way. I need someone I can trust, and someone who will trust me. Summer, I won't tell you I don't need you to do this. You are ideal. But do I want you to do it? Absolutely not."

Summer locked eyes with him. "This isn't an easy job, is it?"

His voice got low. "I've gotten people killed, I've nearly been killed. Every mistake I make is one more life, or lives that are lost."

Summer nodded. She was a fashion designer. She couldn't do this. But she was going to. She was a fashion designer. She was pushing thirty, and still in love with the same boy she had fallen for in high school. Summer decided she'd rather risk her life with him, than sit in the Marc by Marc Jacobs design house, sketching peasant blouses while he flew off to Munich or Madrid and didn't talk to her for another three years.

"Cohen?" she said tentatively. "I'm with you."

He sighed and stood up, gesturing for her to follow him. She did, and they wound their way through corridors. He took her out of the sitting room, through the foyer, and punched in a password to open the door of the living room.

He almost walked in, but stopped. He pushed Summer's banggs out her eyes, then took her hands in his. "Summer." he whispered, "are you sure?"

No she wasn't sure. But she was going to do it. "Brief me." she said. Seth's eyes, which were still deep and sparkling, now had something hard in them. When she said that, they flashed. He pulled Summer to him and wrapped his arms around her.

Almost as abruptly as he had hugged her, he let her go. And they entered the room.

Summer had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping at what she saw. Fifteen or twenty people, most of them relativley young, sitting at computers or on telephones, surrounding by files, GPS monitors, and huge TV screens with pictures flashing on them.

Seth pulled out a chair at the large table that was in the center of the room and she sat down. He threw a file in front of her. She leafed through the pictures.

"Ever seen any of these men?" Seth asked.

Summer shrugged. "I've seen hundreds of men who look like this, Cohen. Why?"

"They're all Arabs. They all pretend they're not. They're rich. They're extremely international. They'll share drinks with you. They'll seduce you. They'll have hidden roooms in their penthouses where they will plan terrorists attacks. They cover their tracks. They're practically impossible to catch."

"And you have to what, catch them?"

"Essentially, yes. But first we need to the who, what, where, when and hows. Who's the target, what's the attack, where are they attacking, when are they attacking, and how are they doing all of the above?"

"God. You guys sure don't fuck around."

Seth raised his eyebrows. "That's kind of the point, Sum."

"So what do we do?"

Seth sighed. "We go through our information. We find out which of a hundred tips look most credible. And then we get on a plane."

He passed her a paper. "Sign it."

She did.

Seth took the paper back, stood to file it, and abruptly left the room.

* * *

Summer sat at the table, blinking. All the eyes in the room were on her. Did she stay there like an idiot? Did she go find Cohen? If she went anywhere, would she get arrested for breaching National Security?

In the midst of these questions, Riley appeared. "So you said yes."

Summer smiled, grateful for a familiar face. "I said yes. He's not too happy about it."

"He thinks he's going to get you killed."

"Something changed in him."

"He's gotten a lot of people killed, Summer.Seth is very good at what he does.He sees what he needs to do and then he goes after it. But he expects everyone else to be able to go as long as he can. He pushes people."

There was silence as Summer digested this information. Riley continued. "He's scared, Summer. He's scared not to push you, because thats the only way he knows how to get his job done. And he doesnt want to let thousands of people die because of you. On the other hand, hes afraid to push you, because if anything would happen to you..." she trailed off. "Suffice to say you mean a lot to him Summer."

Summer swallowed hard. Riley opened her mouth again. "But you know what? I don't think he's giving you enough credit. I think you can hold your own."

Summer gave her a genuine smile. "Thank you."

Their eyes flew to the door and it slid open, and a worried looking Seth Cohen flew into the room.

"New York City." He said. "Get us there."

Sorry it was short. Longer next time, we promise!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

**CIA Transport Jet, La Guardia International Airport, New York City**

"I'm just supposed to be me?" Summer echoed. Seth sighed. They were on the plane that was circling La Guardia waiting to land.

"Yes, Summer." He said, with a patronizing tone. "All you have to do is be Summer Roberts, fashion designer."

Summer looked a little disapointed. Riley laughed. "That's the attitude we need around here, Seth. Everyone comes into the office looking utterly distraught."

Seth shot her a look. "Riley. Our permanent office is underground. Right now, we're working from a safehouse. Our last safehouse was a crack den in Bogota. No wonder we're all distraught."

"A crack den, Cohen?" Summer asked, sounding amused.

Seth groaned. "I've never been anywhere that was so dirty."

Summer grinned. "You were born in Berkely."

"And raised in Newport Beach!" Seth exclaimed, as though she had forgotten.

"Not a lot of dirt, there." Summer said. "But do you know what Marissa told me?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Nothing like a little Newport gossip to transport you a decade back in time. Go ahead. What?"

"Guess who's back in Newport, with a rock on her finger?"

"Julie Cooper."

"Please, Cohen, like she'd ever leave Orange County."

Seth frowned. He was concentrating on coming up with a ridiculous answer. "Luke." He said.

Summer wrinkled her nose. "He is back in town, but not engaged."

Seth's eyebrows raised. "He's back in Newport?"

"Your mom told me last time she called. I have a really bad feeling he's back for Julie."

"You talk to my mom?"

Summer smiled smugly. "Once a week." She said sweetly. "Which is actually more than you call her, ass."

"Weird," Seth said making a face.

"Cohen, this is sick. Just because you're like, James Bond now, doesn't mean you shouldn't know what's going on in your own family."

"My family?"

Summer grinned. "Your aunt Hayley's providing with another complicated connection to the Cooper, Nichol, Atwood clan."

"Hayley and Jimmy are getting married?"

"Your formerly coke addicted aunt and Marissa's investment bakner felon father. The Newpsies are having an absolute field day."

Reily muttered something about that sounded vaguely like 'have to be rich to understand that language', and flipped to the next page in her magazine.

Seth stared at Summer for a little while, scanning her features, noting what had and hadn't changed. She looked up, and he quickly opened a file and looked down.

This time it was Summer's turn to scrutinize. Seth looked the same, yet entirely different. His eyes still sparkled when he looked at her, but she noticed that sometimes, there was something hard in them, as though maybe he had seen too much.

Seth looked up again, and their eyes locked. They both smiled, somewhat tentatively. They hadn't so much as spoken in three years, but had now been thrown not only in contact, but in something bigger.

Seth's thoughts slid back to the omnious 'something bigger', and he felt his stomach twist, nervous about what was going to come. He had been getting too wrapped up in Summer. Totally losing focus. He stood suddenly, and strode into the very back of the plane, where there were several computers set up.

* * *

He shut the door behind him loudly. Reily waited for a reaction from Summer, but all she did was blink twice and ask, "So he's always like that?"

Reily sighed, looking at the door Seth disappeared through and then back at Summer. "There are certain things that he hasn't given you the chance to understand yet, Summer." Reily said gently. Summer nodded, appreciating this diplomatic way of telling her this. Reily continued.

"When he first came to the CIA, he came right into counter- terrorism. He volunteered for anything, no matter how dangerous it was. It was like he didn't care if he lived or died, or anything. But the thing was, he just kept coming through."

Reily paused. Summer looked at her, and blinked again.

"See, Summer, most of the people in the CIA are faceless. They mean nothing. But within si months of Seth coming, half the agency knew his name. Special agent Cohen, down in counter terror? He survived again."

Reily gave a slight smile as a look of comprehension began to form on Summer's face. "He was a superior in a year, in charge of his own branch. He's very good at what he does, Summer, because he takes risks. He risks his own life, and in turn the lives of the people working with him. More than a few people have died following his orders."

Summer's eyebrows raised. "Oh."

Reily nodded. "Yea. So he thinks that if he is perfectly focused, everyone will be okay. Which is why he gets angry so easily, I guess."

"Why didn't he… I mean, I've known him since… I just.." Summer tried to string a sentence together. Reily shrugged.

"I don't think he ever fell out of love with you, Summer. And I don't think that he wants to cause you to get scratched, let alone killed. And I think he hates himself a little bit right now for getting you into this."

Summer closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "When is this thing going to land?"

_Sorry it took so long. We promise more frequent updates if you all reveiw. _


	6. Chapter 6

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

**CIA Safehouse, Lower Chelsea, New York City**

Summer leaned over the sink, towards the mirror and put a final coat of M.A.C lipglass on her lips. She surveyed herself. Her long, dark hair was wavy, and her eyes were smoky. The Marc by Marc Jacobs cocktail dress that she had designed was perfect for the occasion. Sophisticated, but still casual.

She stepped out of the bathroom, into her flat Prada sandals. Seth couldn't help but smile at her. She looked good.

She spun around. "What do you think?" she asked."Am I screamingfashion designer slash West Coast society girl?"

Seth grinned. "You will in about a minute. Here." He whipped a box out of his pocket and exposed a pair of chandelier earrings.

Summer raised her eyebrows. "Cartier." She observed. "The CIA does pretty well." She accepted the box from him, and put them in her ears.

"The left one comes with this piece that feeds into your ear, so you can hear me from the control room. The big diamond on the right one is a camera and there's GPS on it too. I'll know where you areevery second."

"Well, that's creepy." She observed.

"Ok. Jack is going to pose as your escort. He's pretending to be the cousin of a wealthy New York family, so just go with anything he says. I'll be in the control room, and I'll circle the room dressed as a waiter from time to time."

Summer nodded, absorbing it all.

"Feel free to get close and personal to as many guys as possible, but do not let them touch you, or violate you in any way."

"Cohen. You sound like my dad before trips to Italy."

"I'm just giving you the basics, Sum. It's really important that you…." She tuned him out, and watched him talk with his hands.

Seth Cohen. Summer Roberts. And the CIA. Who ever would have thought?

* * *

**Waldorf- Asteria Ballroom,  
Midtown, Manhattan**

Alone in the dark room that would soon be turned into to a thriving, efficient CIA undercover control room, Seth sat with his thoughts. He pictured Summer, in the safehouse in Philly, her hands on her hips, her defiant eyes meeting his. He saw the pained look she shot him on the jet, and he remembered the way she laughed in Chelsea while she got ready to come here.

This was the beginning. It was the first time he sent her out in the field and the first time any of these men would see her face. It was her first chance to be recognized, and his first chance to lose her all over again.

Seth sat alone in the dark room, that would soon spring into life, consumed with guilt. He had been selfish enough to ask her if she would do this, just ffor the chance to be a part of her life again.

Why not call her, Seth? Why not send her an email? Invite her to dinner? He asked himself furiously. Furious, because he knew the answer. He wanted to tie her to him. He needed to be the one she would turn to, the one protecting her.

Alone in the dark room, Seth banished his thoughts and focused on the job. He flipped the light switch and started turning on the computers and connecting the GPS. It was the way he worked through the feelings.

* * *

Inside the party, Summer felt somewhat at ease. She laid low for awhile, and scanned the room. Jack subtly pointed out a few men she should try to talk to, and she deduced some others. She knew she should feel scared. Seth had explained to her how dangerous it was.

But she was excited. She loved designing clothes, and the people at Marc. But was it really the life she wanted to be living? Summer bit her lip, and recalled the way Seth had smiled at her in the safehouse.

She was in New York City, doing something so surreal, she was afraid she was dreaming, and the very person looking out for her was the very person she had been waiting for. She was lost in this contemplative train of thought, when she heard Seth's voice in her ear. She jumped.

"Armani tux, ten o'clock." He said.

Summer sucked in a deep breath, and sauntered over towards the man.

Three hours later, they had determined that Mr. Armani was really Mr. Shelly, of Arlington, Virginia. They had also checked Mr. St. John's, Mr. Hugo Boss and Mr. Versace off the list. It wasn't until Jack was conferring with Summer, over what appeared to anyone else to be an intimate drink, that they saw Mr. Gucci.

He was the most exotic looking one so far. Understated, yet dashingly well dressed. Back int eh makeshift control room, Seth sat up a little straighter. "Summer." He hissed into her microphone. "Black tux, three o'clock." Seth squinted into his monitor. That guy looked too familiar.

"It's Tom Ford for Gucci." Summer muttered to herself. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, downed her drink and glided across the room. She hung around Mr. Gucci to overhear what he was saying to Mr. Armani.

"I think it is ridiculous, the way people flock to these tourists places. The Costa del Sol in Spain, the Greek tourist Islands. There is so little culture."

"So little panache." Summer said, seeming to float out of nowhere. She smiled. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help but over hear. I wonder the same thing myself. Why visit someplace so superficial, if you can go somewhere real."

Mr. Gucci smiled at her, looking at least, amused. "You have been to these real places, then?"

Summer beamed. "Rome, Venice, Madrid, Sevilla, Cairo, Port Sudan, Athens, The Red Sea Coast…" she trailed off.

Mr. Gucci smiled at her more warmly. "You have traveled."

"Always wanted to see the world." She murmured. In the control room, Seth raised his eyebrows.

The dashing man stuck out his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. Henry Montcalm."

"Summer Roberts." She looked him up and down coyly. "Tom Ford for Gucci?"

He nodded, smiling and looking pleased. "I'm surprised you recognized it."

"I work in fashion."

"Do you model?"

"Design. Marc Jacobs."

"That's very impressive, Miss Roberts."

She laughed a little. "Please, Monsieur Montcalm, call me Summer."

"As you wish, mademosielle." He replied, in perfectly accented French.

"Where are you from, Summer?"

She smiled again. "Newport Beach. California."

"Beautiful." He remarked.

"And you?"

"But not as beautiful as you are." He said. Seth who was listening, and watching in disgust, rolled his eyes, but noted how smoothly Henry evaded the question.

* * *

Another hour passed, and Mr. Henry Montcalm, from nowhere was drinking with alarming gusto. Seth watched proudly as Summer gave the illusion that she was tipsy as he was, without actually ingesting any alcohol.

"I adored Venice." She was saying in a schoolgirl type voice.

"I own a resort there." Henry told her, his olive cheeks flushed.

Summer thought fast. She had a gut feeling about this guy. "I was actually planning on takinga trip over there, in the next week. With a friend of mine." She said.

Seth raised his eyebrows, but let her go with it.

Her right hand fluttered to her collarbone, drawing Henry's eyes to her cleavage. Seth chuckled, as he realized that he had fallen for that trick more than once. Summer looked down then, up at him through her thickly mascaraed eyelashes. "I'd love to look you up in Venice."

He pulled a card out of his pocket. "The card of my hotel. Ask for Henry. They will give you to me."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: High Stakes And Risky Business

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.

Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger.

Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.

"All this time I wonder how I've never got the burn, and if I'm ever gonna learn." –Matchbox 20

CIA Safehouse, Lower Chelsea, New York City

Summer and Seth were sitting on the floor of the living room of their discreet Chelsea townhouse, opposite each other, countless photos spread out between them.

"You took all these shots from the control room?" Summer asked Seth incredulously.

He grinned. "Technology, Sum. Embrace it."

She suddenly saw him as the Seth Cohen that spent hours playing video games in their Berkely apartment. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile.

"I wish I knew who these men were." Seth said, frustrated. He blinked twice and watched as Summer bolted off the floor and out the room. She came back seconds later, clutching a piece of paper and plopped back down.

"Guest list!" She said, triumphantly, setting it down, facing Seth.

He stared at her. "Who told you to get this?" he asked, sounding shocked. "How did you get this?"

"No one, and I picked it up off of a table." She said, shrugging.

Seth shook his head, surprised for the millionth time that day. "Ok. So what are your thoughts on Montcalm? Your gut instincts, not what you think I want to hear."

"He's slick. Really slick." She said, biting her lower lip. "He watched me, and everything else around him, all at the same time. I think he knows something, Seth. Or he's in on something more than smuggling."

Seth nodded, and looked at her for a long time. "You're sure?"

Summer nodded.

"It looks like we're going to Venice."

* * *

It was almost 4 am. Summer was growing increasingly tired, but Seth just seemed to be absorbing more and more enrgy. Summer watched in a mixture of fascination and disgust as Seth drank coffee after coffee.

"Do you ever sleep?" she asked him

He shook his head and grinned. "You know how I get on caffeine."

She rolled her eyes at the flashbacks and picked up a file.

"This is surreal." She told him.

"What? I'm more dashing than any 007, and you think it's surreal?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh, yea, you're really dashing, Cohen." She said, laughing. "It's surreal that this is your life, and that all of a sudden, I'm in it again, in the most bizarre way possible."

He gave a non- committal shrug. "At least you didn't pop up on my suspects list."

"Try telling our professors at Berkely this one." She mused. "I never would have guessed this."

"No one would have, Sum. They all thought you would be some movie star's wife and that I'd have some eccletic job."

"You do have an ecclectic job."

"You know what I meant."

They sat in that kind of comfortable silence for a few minutes. It wasn't an awkward pause; neither of really noticed the quiet. They were both lost in thought. They turned to each other.

"Seth, what happened to us?"

"This is terrifyingly dangerous, Sum." They spoke at the same time.

"Let's ignore that." She whispered.

"What did happen to us?" he repeated her own question back to her.

"I honestly don't exactly remember."

He nodded, concurring. "You know what I do remember?"

She bit her lip as he put his hand on her face and kissed her.

* * *

Frankfurt Airport, Frankfurt, Germany

Summer sat outside the gate that would put her on the connecting flight to Venice. She looked across the room, her eyes fixed on Seth, who was immersed in a file, muttering to himself. They were on the same flight, but pretending not to know each other, just in case.

She touched her lip, still feeling the burn of that kiss. It hadn't lasted long, and since then, they'd basically both pretended it hadn't happened, but at least for Summer, it had brought everything rushing back.

She sat back and wached chic Eurpoen women stride birskly through the airport on their way to catch connecting flights to Milan or Paris, or wherever they were going, and she felt something that she hadn't exactly experienced before.

A sort of intense sense of purpose. A little bit of foreboding, and more anticipation than she'd known you could feel. A sort of fire in her gut that she liked.

She looked over at Seth again, the apparently new and improved Seth Cohen. He scrunched up his face and bit down on the cap of his pen. Maybe they were still the same people they always had been. Summer checked the time on her CIA improved Coach watch.

Or maybe 'same' was a bit of an overstatement.

* * *

He chuckled to himself. Of all the gin joints, eh? Actually, of all the bars and clubs in Venice, he had chosen one of the seediest. As much as he hated these God awful slums, he needed information, and he needed it fast, and he wasn't going to get it meeting at Cipriani's.

Someone slid into the bar stool next to him.

"How can I be of service, Mr. Montcalm?" the person asked, without so much as glancing over.

"I need everything you can give me on Summer Roberts." He said quietly. "She lives in Philadelphia, designs for Marc Jacobs."

"For who?"

"It doesn't matter. Just give me all you got. By tomorrow at the latest."

"Tomorrow? That's awful soon."

"She'll be in town tonight if it will help."

"It will. Why the interest?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but there's something about her. If I can use her, I want to."

"Tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place."

"Consider it done."

No sooner had the average looking man had slithered into the bar and into the seat, he left. Their conversation was short, and to the point. But still he lingered. He sat their with his drink and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it himself and thought. The way she moved and acted.

Summer Roberts had tricks up her Oscar de la Renta sleeves. And he intended to find out what they were. And he would use her for all he could.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: High Stakes And Risky Business**

**Author: Sara and Lizzie**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own the OC, The CIA, the city of philadelphia or anything else we use. If we inadvertently borrow something from another source, we apologize.**

**Summary: AU. Seth and Summer lost touch since they broke up in college. Summer is designing clothes and jet setting with the Hollywood crowd. And Seth is an accountant? However, when both of them end up in the City Of Brotherly Love, Seth makes a request of Summer that reveals to her his real job, and his love that's anything but brotherly, while putting both of their lives- not to mention the free world- in danger**.

**Author's Note: This is our fun fic. It's unrealistic and we're taking a lot of dramatic liberties. Maybe you'll love it, maybe you'll hate it. But, review. Please.**

**Okay. So we haven't updated this since 2005. BUT, we remembered how much we loved it, and thought, hey, maybe someone will read it. So if you do, uhhh, **

**REVIEW.**

**Hotel Cipriani, Venice, Italy**

Summer strode confidently into the bar at Cipriani's in Venice. Seth's CIA team had confirmed Montcalm's location, and she marched in, Chanel sunglasses and Marc Jacobs sundress settling on her perfect body. She pretended not to see Montcalm, and settled at the bar near him.

She signaled the bartender, and felt his presence next to her. "Get the lady a champagne cocktail." He told the man behind the bar. Summer refrained from outwardly rolling her eyes, instead choosing to smile confidently.

"Ketel One and tonic, lots of ice." She told the bartender.

Montcalm raised his eyebrows. "Very bold for a woman."

"I like to make a statement." Summer said coyly, batting her eyelashes as she pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead. She folded her hands in front of her and turned to him. "We seem to meet in the strangest places." She said, smiling.

"That we do, Miss Roberts."

"And here I didn't think you would remember me." She said. From his hotel room upstairs, watching through a hidden camera, and listening in on a hidden microphone, Seth rolled his eyes. She could lay it on thick if she had to. He remembered the kiss they had shared, the kiss that had left him breathless. Had that been a game to her as well?

Montcalm smiled again. It was the smile that charmed women all over the world. "A woman like you is impossible to forget. Are you enjoying Venice so far?"

"I _always_ enjoy Venice." She mused. "But this trip has been particularly interesting indeed." She smiled to herself. That wasn't a lie. The handsome bartender placed a cocktail in front of her, and she picked it up and sipped it.

"This is a business trip? Or pleasure?" he asked, drawing out the word pleasure.

"A little of both." She said, one eye dropping down in a lazy wink. "I've never been good at separating the two."

"We have that in common, Miss. Roberts."

"Summer." She corrected in voice that even through a microphone, gave Seth shivers. She took another sip of her drink and put it down again. She looked at her watch, seeing that she had been there for seven minutes. Seth had said no more than ten. "I have to be going. Nice to see you again, Mr. Montcalm. I do hope we meet again."

"I'll make sure we do, Summer."

* * *

**CIA Headquarters, Hungarian Palace Hotel, Lido Island, Venice, Italy**

A short water taxi ride took her to a smaller island, one of the many that composed Venice, and to the Hungarian Palace Hotel, where the entire top floor was composed of CIA conference rooms and living quarters for Seth's team. She let herself into Seth's room and stood before him. "That asshole is slick." She said, her face contorting into one of disgust.

Seth nodded, frowning. "He likes you." He stated simply.

"So do a lot of men, Seth."

"I never even asked you if you were seeing anyone." He mumbled quietly, looking down and shuffling his feet, looking a lot like the Seth Cohen she remembered from high school.

"I'm not." She said quickly. "Are you…?"

He shook his head. "Job's not conducive to a relationship. Plus, there's this girl. I used to date her. Loved her. Never really got over it." Summer's eyes widened as he said what they were both feeling, putting it out in the open to make sure that from here on out, it was complicated.

Seth and Summer did complicated well. They always had, and something told her that they always would. Except she had never expected for always to resurface. She thought her time with Seth was over, lost and gone, but apparently, she was wrong. She stood in his room, his breathing quickening, staring at him.

Seth shook his head and made a choice. It was a bad choice, but it seemed like the only one he could make. He crossed the room to her in seconds and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hard. She parted her lips to invite his tongue into her mouth, and moaned into him. His hands ran down the tan skin of her back until they found the zipper of her sundress. He unzipped quickly, as she reached for the button on his pants.

He kissed her towards the bed, and she broke the kiss, removing her dress hastily as he shed the rest of his clothes. Gone was the routine. When they were together, they had sex all the time. She knew what to expect, she knew him. She had forgotten. The touch of their skin against each other's was newly exciting, yet comfortingly familiar at the same time. As his tongue pushed it's way back into her mouth again, exploring it, she sat on the bed, and scooted backwards, laying back against the pillows.

Seth stared at her. She looked like a Venetian goddess with her dark hair fanning out against the white pillowcases. She held out her hand and he took it. She pulled him on top of her and he ran his hands from her hips up her body. She squirmed beneath him as he kissed her neck, breathy sighs escaping her lips naturally. He slipped inside of her easily, like they had never been apart, and she surrendered her racing thoughts to the moment. Their moment.

* * *

**Hotel Montcalm, Venice, Italy**

From the balcony of his suite at his hotel, Henry Montcalm could see all of Venice Proper. It held possibilities beyond his wildest imaginations. Ideas, energies. A recruiting ground. Those he needed to find were not soldiers, they were not mercenaries. They were ordinary. Ordinary people were the driving force of his operation, because he had learned how to use them.

Like Summer Roberts. Beautiful, talented, cultured, yet hopelessly naive. She thought she was flirting with, seducing a business man. She didn't know who he was, what he stood for, yet she was like putty in his hands.

But she was strong that one, and he would need a few weeks to get under her skin. But once he did that, he would melt her and mold her into part of his plan. His genius could not be stopped. It could not be contained.


End file.
